


Hot Bread

by dramady, jeck



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-16
Updated: 2011-07-16
Packaged: 2017-10-21 11:31:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/224705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramady/pseuds/dramady, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeck/pseuds/jeck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peeta always smells like bread.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot Bread

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: Not ours; no profit, pls don't sue!

Peeta knocks on the door to Katniss' house in Victor's Village. He knows he doesn't need to; Katniss doesn't lock it, just like she doesn't answer her telephone. But he knocks, the basket of buns still warm in his other arm. His head is down as he waits, listening for her tread on the other side of the door.

Katniss sits in a chair in the kitchen. She thinks that Greasy Sae should go and open the door. But when the knock comes again, twice, three times, Katniss gets up with a huff. She almost kicks Buttercup who lays lazily at her feet. Maybe she should have kicked him, but then she throws the door open and startles when she sees Peeta standing there.

"Why are you here?" Katniss asks, the blanket around her shoulders she tugs even closer to her body. It's not even cold.

Holding the basket out, Peeta shrugs. "Cheese buns." They can both hear the geese honking in the distance.

Katniss hugs the blanket closer and with a wary hand she reaches out and takes the basket from Peeta. She doesn't ask him inside. Deep down, she is still afraid even if she can no longer see the dark haze that clouds Peeta's blue eyes.

"Thank you," Katniss says quietly, torn between asking Peeta in and kicking him back out.

"Did you sleep all right?" He asks. With nothing to do with his hands, he stuffs them in his pockets so she won't see them shake. "I'm … I'll go check on Haymitch in a while." If she wants to come.

It's too late because Katniss always sees the way his hands shake and she blames herself. Then suddenly, in her eyes, Peeta looks weary. She steps aside to invite him in but the words lodge in her throat.

Hesitating just a moment before stepping in, Peeta smiles, but it's there and gone, never making it to his eyes. He takes back the basket of rolls though, leading Katniss to the table where he sits and waits for her to sit too, uncovering the rolls and pushing them in front of her. The cheese buns are perfectly prepared, the cheese not quite crusty yet.

The smell permeates the air and it masks the smell of blood and roses that seem to be stuck all over the house. Katniss briefly closes her eyes and inhales. The bread smells like home but this still doesn't quite feel like home.

Katniss pulls one roll out, breaks it in half, steam rises from within and she offers the half to Peeta. "Greasy Sae made stew. Don't ask me what meat because I don't know. Do you want some?"

"I haven't had breakfast," he answers and they can hear Greasy Sae moving around the kitchen, no need to get up. He doesn't ask about Katniss hunting. He takes the offered roll and bites into it. It's good. He did well.

Then Katniss surprisingly slips into this other world where she takes care of Peeta. Like during the games, like the time he was injured. The blanket dumped over a chair, she disappears into the kitchen, chewing on the bread while spooning stew in two bowls. Back with Peeta, she puts it down and hesitates before sitting next to him, pulling the basket of bread closer.

"Eat," she says, breaking another roll in two and giving half to Peeta. "You know better than to not have breakfast."

It's on the tip of Peeta's tongue to answer, but he takes the roll instead, and a spoon and he eats, watching to make sure she's eating too. She still needs to gain weight. They all do. "I'm guessing squirrel," he murmurs, looking up from his bowl with a smile that makes it to his eyes.

It startles Katniss to see the smile, to see it light up Peeta's eyes. It's brief but it's something she can't miss. Then, Katniss can't help it, she smiles back right before ducking her head to take a spoonful of the stew. "I think you're right," she agrees, dipping her bread in the stew and popping it in her mouth. Effie would think that as bad manners.

It's easy, almost comfortable, to eat together and the rolls are gone when the the stew is gone. It just gives Peeta reason to make more. He doesn't really need a reason. His hands aren't shaking, then. He stands, taking the dishes to the kitchen and the sink.

She watches him go, slightly limping on his artificial leg that her brows draw together while she thinks, she misses Peeta. Katniss still isn't sure if this one's the one that she knows. It's hard to tell especially when most days she avoids him.

When he reappears, wiping his hands, Peeta looks at Katniss again. "Thanks for the stew. If - " he shrugs, gesturing toward the door. "I'll be around." If she's going to work on the book, or if she needs anything.

As Peeta passes her, Katniss reaches out and catches him by the wrist. She very gently takes his hand, turning it upward, looking at it, touching her fingers on his palm. They're slightly shaking and she wants it to stop. "Show me how to make bread," she says, fingers opening up so that they're palm to palm before her fingers lace with his.

Eyes on their joined hands, Peeta takes a long, slow deep breath. "You've never cared about making bread, Katniss," he says softly, gently. Then he looks up at her face. Just as he's never wanted to hunt.

"I didn't say I was going to make it." Katniss stands and steps closer to Peeta. "You are. I'm just going to watch." Just like she likes to watch when Peeta draws in the book. His hands are always steady then, too. She pulls the empty basket and shows him. "We're out of bread."

 _Don't let him take you from me_ , she remembers telling him when now she's been the one pulling away.

So many lies, some they perpetuated, some done to them. Even without the hacker jacker venom, Peeta would still have trouble discerning the truth. He looks down at Katniss, searching her eyes. "The other tributes. At the cornucopia. Mutts. Real or not real?"

Katniss remembers the eyes. The eyes. She nods sadly and says, "real." She doesn't let his hand go but squeezes it and she can feel it shaking in her grasp.

"But the medicine was for me. Real or not real." It isn't really a question. Peeta's hand tightens in Katniss'. "You saved my life."

"Not as many times as you've saved mine," Katniss says, taking another step closer. "Real." Because she can't lose the boy with the bread.

It seems like the most natural thing and the most terrifying thing to lean down, eyes on Katniss' face, and kiss her. Gentle, light. Peeta whispers against her mouth, "real."

One word spins in circles in Katniss' head. _Always_. That night when she dropped down the fence, hurt and given sleep syrup, she asks Peeta to stay with her. His one word answer --

 _Always_.

Broken. Haunted. But still here with Katniss. Still watching over her, even if his hands shake and every now and again Peeta gets this pained look in his eyes like the war they survived still wages inside him.

Katniss is slow to pull back, her hand on Peeta's cheek, her eyes not wanting to open, afraid to see Peeta's eyes in case it's the one she doesn't recognize. When she blinks and sees him looking back, she smiles softly. "Real."

Taking her hand in his - it's the one thing that can make sure his don't shake - he smiles, really smiles at her, and leads her toward the door, toward his house.


End file.
